The following is a guest blog from my daughter Michal. She writes about desire for justice, and how her grandparents’ legacies live on.
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A few nights ago I changed my Facebook “profile picture” and desktop screensaver to a photo of my mother’s parents sharing a dance. The love and admiration reflected in each of their faces makes the photo one of my favorites out of the ones I have seen thus far. I must admit that I was feeling a bit blue and missing my grandparents – on both sides – when I changed the picture, or rather, the idea of them. I did not spend enough time with them in this life, and sometimes I long for their stories and embraces.
But another reason I want to see the photo is to remind myself that I am part of something larger – that my life purpose is connected to justice and the betterment of humankind. These are grand words to describe a simple concept – that I have always felt and continue to feel a calling to stand against the injustices I see, hear, and feel around me. This call did not originate with me, but dates back generations on both sides of my family.
My grandfather, Roland Chamblee, was deeply involved in civil rights and justice issues in South Bend, IN. Having served in WWII to return to a United States deep in racial discrimination and segregation, he spoke out against injustice and became one of South Bend’s first Black doctors. My grandmother, Dorothy Chamblee, was a soldier in her own right, and the two brought up six (often unruly – that’s right, I said it) children as best they could. My father’s father, Sercy Jones, died when my father was six years old. I heard of him as a preacher, a man who could move mountains with his sermons, and a man who cared deeply for people and the word of God. My grandmother, Mary Jones, was deeply involved in human and civil rights. She dedicated her time to raising five (also unruly!) children, serving the poor, and organized with the likes of Martin Luther King, Jr. to address racial injustice in her community.
My memories of my grandparents are too few in this life, but I will never lose what is already in my veins and spirit – their legacies. All of what I have has been given to me by my ancestors and family. I come from soldiers, doctors and healers of all sorts, preachers, advocates, lovers, and fighters. Above all, I come from a line of people who know how to love, teach, pray, and forgive – I come from lovers and healers of people.
I sometimes think that there is only a few ways for me to answer these calls – growing up, I often imagined myself back in the 1960s being a part of the Black Panther Movement, or marching with Harvey Milk for gay rights. I value such acts of bravery and selflessness, and may myself come to participate in similar movements in my time. But I also see that I can change unjust and oppressive systems right from where I am. Through writing, teaching my students, volunteering my time to my community, and showing up openly as a young, Black, and queer woman, I am answering that call in my own way.
My mother passed on her legacy of music, songwriting, and storytelling. My father gave me his quiet stoicism and introspection, which guides me above all else. (They also gave me some of my not-so-great tendencies and traits, but this is a gratitude blog!) What gifts will I give to my children and the world? I am still figuring that out as I decide which paths I will take, but what I know for sure is that my ancestors will continue to guide me along, for they paved those paths themselves.
